


Half-Birthdays

by Rhaized



Series: Adventures of Mary and Marisa [20]
Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Half-birthday, Marisa doesn't really get it, Marisa struggles with feelings, Mary is into it, Mary is very hard to resist, Monkey is her voice of reason, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 08:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30136548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhaized/pseuds/Rhaized
Summary: Marisa wakes up to a text message from Mary wishing her a "happy half-birthday," whatever that means. As the day progresses, Marisa is showered with special attention and celebration from Mary, which is perhaps over-the-top but, also, just the smallest bit endearing. Enough so that Marisa actually allows it.
Relationships: Marisa Coulter & Marisa Coulter's Daemon, Marisa Coulter/Mary Malone
Series: Adventures of Mary and Marisa [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073954
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	Half-Birthdays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parrillawilson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parrillawilson/gifts).



> I'm not sure if Marisa's birthday is revealed in canon, but she gives me major Capricorn vibes. I also have a book that has a description of every birth day and this bit about December 31 struck me: 
> 
> Less highly evolved December 31 people must beware of getting carried away by a crusading attitude and arousing antagonisms, negative energy and accompanying failures. They must learn to go about their business in a quiet, unassuming way and achieve the same results with half the trouble.

Just as Marisa felt she'd be able to doze off for another few minutes of sleep after her alarm jolted her awake, she felt her phone vibrate from somewhere over to her right.

"What's Mary doing  _ awake?"  _ she murmured out loud as she picked up her phone and saw the text message notification. It was just after six o’clock in the morning on a Wednesday. Marisa had been in this world and around the lab long enough to know that Mary Malone was  _ not  _ a morning person. She stumbled into work every morning looking practically hungover with bags under her eyes and an extra-large thermos full of coffee tucked under her arm. Marisa wasn't even sure if Mary knew what it  _ looked like _ when it was dark outside in the morning, since she was always sleeping until the last possible moment. It was that which made her name suddenly appearing on Marisa's phone both a curiosity and potential cause for concern.

_ Happy Half-Birthday 🎉🥳🎂🎊🎈,  _ the golden monkey read from his perch on her right shoulder, yawning and peering down at the device. They both just laid there, re-reading the message again and again.  _ What's a half-birthday?  _

"I don't know," Marisa answered, feeling her eyebrows scrunch together as she closed the text messaging app and opened up the web browser, doing what she did best in this world: looking up things she didn't understand. 

_ "A half-birthday is a day approximately six months before or after the anniversary of a person's birth," _ she read aloud, even though she knew the monkey absorbed the content the moment her eyes skimmed it over.  _ "It is sometimes marked by people whose birthday falls near major holidays, the celebration of which may overshadow celebration of the birthday."  _

_ Well, I'll be,  _ the monkey offered, swishing his tail lightly across Marisa's head.  _ Today is July 1. Almost exactly six months from December 31. _

New Year's Eve was truly an  _ awful  _ day to have a birthday. Marisa grimaced just thinking about it. Her mind wandered back to all the fancy parties her mother would drag her to that made little or no acknowledgement of it being  _ her  _ special day, too. She thought of watching the clock strike twelve and thinking not about the blossoming new year ahead of them but, rather, the end of the only day during the year that was  _ supposed  _ to be hers but that never truly was. She thought about all of the drunk people, running and stumbling around making utter  _ fools  _ of themselves in front of literal government officials. She thought about how alone she felt, even in rooms and houses filled to the brim with other people.

So to Marisa, the idea of a half-birthday was intriguing. July the first was an entirely different feel to the very last day of December. It was the height of summer, which was opposite to the depths of winter. It wasn't the last day of the year but the very  _ middle  _ of it, with so much left to see and do. It was the middle of the school holiday, too, which meant more time for Marisa's own research and her various pet projects. It was sunny and warm on July the first. Hopeful, even, during a season and month that actually created life instead of drained it. 

_ Respond to her,  _ the monkey chided, and Marisa realized it'd been about ten minutes already of her looking up the meaning and history of half-birthdays and reminiscing about birthdays’ past. 

_ Thank you,  _ she simply sent back, evoking a frustrated hiss from the monkey.

_ Look at all the emojis she used!  _ he pouted as he thrashed about there on her pillow.  _ You could have at least sent back a smiley face. What’s the matter with you? _

"Don't be so dramatic," Marisa mumbled, rolling her eyes and flipping over to her left side now as she tugged another pillow closer to her. "Let's try and rest for another half hour. It's summer and we don't need to get to the lab that early."

Almost two hours later Marisa and her daemon were walking down the sidewalk toward St. Peter's College, taking in the bright rays of sunshine and the light morning breeze.

_ It's so nice out today,  _ the monkey remarked from his place in her dark brown handbag.  _ Such a wonderful day for a half-birthday.  _

_ Oh, stop it,  _ Marisa tossed back, but she couldn't help but close her eyes briefly and take it all in, the feel of the warmth on her face and the breeze fluffing her hair. It  _ was  _ a nice day. A nice day...for  _ her,  _ perhaps. Maybe. If she bothered to indulge in such things as half-birthdays.

When they entered the lab, they saw Mary there waiting for them, her face brightening as she looked up from her desk.

_ She's here incredibly early,  _ Marisa remarked, nodding to Mary as her eyes looked her up and down. The other woman looked a bit tired, which might be expected as it was a quarter to nine and during the summer Mary tended to roll in at eleven or later, grateful for the flexibility of her schedule which enabled her to get in and stay later since the nine to five life was  _ not  _ for her. She was wearing a flowy yellow blouse tucked into her signature pair of denim jeans clad with brown flip-flops. She looked relaxed and refreshed, as she usually did, but which again seemed strange for it being so early in the day.

“Good morning,” the redhead greeted, a happy look still on her face as she stood up from her desk and came over to them with something clutched in her hands.

“What’s this?” Marisa asked, setting her handbag (and the golden monkey) down onto the ground and pushing it below her desk.

"I got you a treat for your half-birthday," Mary exclaimed, suddenly shy as she handed Marisa both a cup of coffee and a small paper bag. 

_ Ooh,  _ the monkey chimed in her mind, hidden in her bag but seeing through her nonetheless everything that was happening.  _ What’s that? What did she give you? _

"It's coffee cake," Mary blurted out before Marisa could even open it, which made Marisa both balk and also grin just the slightest bit. "And cinnamon coffee. Because I'd seen you put cinnamon in your coffee the past few times we got coffee. And I…wanted to get you a coffee the way you like it. For your half-birthday."

_ This is too cute,  _ the monkey purred, and Marisa could almost  _ kick  _ him for the way his feelings crept into hers and made her feel all light and warm and fuzzy in a way she  _ certainly  _ didn't want to feel before nine o’clock in the morning when she had work to do. 

Mary was sweet. Marisa knew that from the moment they first met a few months ago, when she'd barged into the office uninvited and unannounced and still Mary wanted to learn all about her work and even made her some coffee from her little French press. She was so kind in that way. Genuine. Welcoming. But still, this almost felt like too  _ much. _

_ You’re just not used to it,  _ the monkey scoffed, and Marisa sighed internally before thanking Mary, offering her a smile and a nod before telling her she was grateful since she didn’t have a chance to eat breakfast.

Marisa supposed that she really was grateful, as both the coffee and the cake  _ were  _ very good. Marisa appreciated the treat as she sat down skimming through some research articles, pausing every few pages to take a bite of cake or take a sip of her drink.

_ Does it taste better because it’s your half-birthday cake?  _ the monkey teased her, and Marisa let out a soft grunt as she shook her head and hunched over her papers. This was getting out of hand. The entire concept of a  _ half-birthday  _ was preposterous. It was sweet of Mary to think of it, but Marisa wouldn’t give it any mind. She had work to do.

"I ordered pizza for lunch," Mary said as she came over to Marisa's desk a few hours later, her voice perky and her smile bright as she leaned against Marisa’s desk. "With pineapple. Because you…like that on your pizza, don't you? I remember you saying so, at any rate."

_ My, my, my,  _ the monkey drawled, grinning from his spot hidden under the desk as he listened in on the little exchange.  _ This woman must really like you.  _

_ Don't be ridiculous,  _ Marisa snapped, but she couldn't help but feel a faint blush that just barely tinged her cheeks as she nodded to Mary and thanked her kindly for including her in the order.  _ Mary is just very thoughtful. She's like this to everyone.  _

_ When's the last time you saw her order another lab member their favorite coffee and cake and pizza topping?  _

Marisa ignored him, going back to her article drafting. She wanted to finish this particular section of it before lunch, if she could get back into the right mindset after all of these _distractions._ She was still _working,_ after all, as that’s what she _did._ It’s what people did during _all_ sorts of days of the year. Including half-birthdays.

“So,” Mary said after they’d finished eating their pizza (which was, again, actually very good). “Got any big plans for your half-birthday tonight?”

“Hardly,” Marisa snorted, and when she saw Mary’s eyes widen, she sighed and turned back around to face her. “We don’t...celebrate that in my world. To be honest, I had to google what it even meant.”

“Oh, no!” Mary gasped, and if it were anybody else, Marisa would think her reaction was sarcastically dramatic or full of mocking. But it was Mary, so it was completely and entirely sincere. “You’ve never celebrated your half-birthday before?”

“No,” Marisa answered, and she felt a bit defensive now, as if she had to somehow explain herself and the customs of her world. “We have our birthdays and that’s it. And mine was never particularly fun anyway, being New Year’s Eve and all.”

As soon as she said it she instantly regretted it and wished she could take it back.  _ Feeling  _ crossed Mary’s face then as she murmured sympathetically, saying that was a shame and precisely why half-birthdays could be so special. Marisa didn’t want to  _ go  _ there, as she’d somehow accidentally done. She liked Mary well enough, to be sure, and she was a good person, but Marisa wasn’t used to talking about  _ feelings  _ like this, or people taking the time to think of her and her birthday, or her  _ half-birthday,  _ or whatever else.

_ You’re resisting it,  _ the monkey thought to her, snickering there inside the leather as Mary continued to ask her if she was free that evening and wanted to come over for a little celebration.  _ You’re afraid of it. _

_ Of what?  _ Marisa asked, irritably, but she didn’t have time to both argue with her daemon  _ and  _ deal with Mary. She thus found herself agreeing to go over to Mary’s house before she even realized what she’d done.

_ Falling for her,  _ the monkey sang in her mind, his smugness and his glee echoing around her like windchimes as Mary practically skipped away over to her own side of the office. 

_ Just  _ **_stop_ ** _ it!  _ Marisa shot back, but it was too late. The thought stayed nestled there in the back of Marisa’s mind as she continued to draft up her article. It was like a dip into a cold body of water, where Marisa’s entire body tingled with it. She found herself thinking back to Mary far too often than she’d like throughout the rest of the afternoon. She even stole little glances at her, and once thought she caught  _ Mary  _ looking, too. The monkey laughed at it, but Marisa frowned. 

Closer to the time Mary asked them to come over, Marisa was almost afraid of what to expect. 

_ Oh, come now,  _ the monkey dismissed as they made their way over there by foot. Their hotel wasn't very far from both Mary's place and campus, which was quite convenient, really, as Marisa could simply walk.  _ This is Mary we're talking about! She's not going to mob you or anything.  _

He was right, and Marisa understood that, but she still felt so unsettled by the entire ordeal. She just felt strange about it, about Mary bringing her coffee exactly the way she liked it and remembering what pizza toppings she preferred and now organizing who  _ knows  _ what kind of little celebration for her.

_ It’s called someone being kind to you,  _ her daemon said to her, gently, and Marisa felt herself stiffen as they carried along down the sidewalk, sun still bright in the sky during the summer evening.  _ It’s a good thing, Marisa. You don’t have to be afraid. _

“There she is!”

Not even three seconds after Marisa knocked on the door, Mary swung it open to beam at her. She was still wearing her yellow blouse and blue jeans but had a little green apron over them. “Come on in, half-birthday girl!”

Marisa didn’t want to grin. She didn’t want her stomach to twist as Mary moved to brush her arm lightly as she went to close the door behind them. And she didn’t want to take in the mouth-watering scents waftering into the living room from the kitchen, where Mary was clearly cooking something—something  _ for her,  _ for her  _ half-birthday. _

_ You can’t escape it,  _ the monkey drawled, leaping out of the bag (Mary knew; of  _ course  _ Mary knew about him) and heading toward a little table by the stairs. He proceeded to watch the two of them with narrowed black eyes.  _ Face it. _

_ No.  _ But Marisa followed Mary into the sitting room, where a nice little tablecloth was spread out on the table with bowls of sweets and other treats set up neatly on the side.

“May I offer you some wine?”

“Sure,” Marisa said, and she bit her lip as she sat down and Mary came back over to her with a large bottle.

"Merlot?” Marisa breathed, her eyes bulging as she watched Mary pour her a  _ very _ generous glass before moving to pour herself one.

“Yes. You order it at our department happy hours, so I...thought you’d enjoy it tonight.”

_ That’s so thoughtful,  _ Marisa found herself thinking, and she felt the golden monkey’s amusement and satisfaction swirl through her as Mary sat down and they made small talk about happenings around the university and around town.  _ It’s...quite nice. _

_ It is,  _ her daemon agreed, finding his way onto a chair beside Mary and watching her as she spoke. She was talking fast, which wasn’t unusual for her, but it perhaps had a bit of a nervous edge to it.

_ Is she...nervous?  _ The thought seemed to barely register in Marisa’s mind as she drank deeply from her wine glass, her blue eyes locked on Mary’s even bluer ones.  _ Do I...make her nervous? _

"What's this special dinner you have planned for us?" Marisa asked after some time had passed, keeping her voice light but already feeling her eyes betray her as they flickered from Mary’s eyes to her lips to her apron and back again.

"Lasagne," Mary answered, and perhaps it was because of the wine, but Marisa didn't see any shyness on Mary's face now. She saw, what could only be described as, dare Marisa say it... _ adoration.  _ “I know it’s your favorite, and I wanted to make you something special for your half-birthday. Because you deserve to be celebrated. If not on your actual birthday, then on your half-birthday.”

_ Yes,  _ the monkey insisted as Marisa blinked, simply staring at the redhead.  _ Feel it. Allow yourself to feel it. _

_ No,  _ Marisa tried, but yet again she couldn’t. As she looked into Mary’s eyes, she felt her heart speed up. She felt her palms begin to sweat, too, as she clung onto the stem of her wine glass, closing her fingers around it tightly. Her  _ breathing  _ was even different, too.

“That’s—” Marisa began, swallowing and feeling just for a moment like she might not be able to actually go through with it and say it. “That's…possibly the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Mary had that  _ look  _ again as she scooted a little closer, her cheeks flushed from the wine and from something  _ else  _ as she moved to rest a hand on top of Marisa’s, her light eyes warm. “It’s only what you deserve, love.”

_ But I don’t,  _ came a voice in the back of Marisa’s mind, but the monkey pushed for her to quell it. He forced her attention back to Mary, whose hand was still on hers and whose gaze was sparkling at her with such  _ feeling  _ Marisa found it almost hard to breathe.

“That’s the oven,” Mary said after a few more minutes, the timer beeping in the background. She moved away and the trance was broken. “I’ll be right back.”

_ Stay,  _ the monkey instructed before Marisa even realized what it was she was doing. She was half-standing now, her wine glass set down on the table and her hands curled into fists. 

This was it: Marisa’s fight or flight. All she knew was how to retreat—from her feelings, from her surroundings, from anyone who dared to get too close. Marisa never let herself get attached to anyone or anything for the inevitable extraction, the inevitable disappointment they’d bring to her or that she’d herself cause. It was too risky. Too painful. It was better to float inward, to not let anyone in. That way, she could never feel the kind of hurt she’d felt in the past.

_ Stay,  _ her daemon repeated, and Marisa turned her head to look at him. Unlike her, he was perfectly poised and postured, sitting with his back straight and his tail wrapped neatly around his little paws.  _ You can stay. She isn’t going to hurt us. _

_ I’ll hurt her,  _ Marisa countered, feeling something like panic start to flare through her, but the monkey simply shook his head, his eyes wise and defiant.

_ That’s on her. She can look after herself. And, as it stands, it seems that she wants to look after you, too. _

She looked at him again— _ really  _ looked at him. He was calm and collected, as she herself usually was. He was her, and she was him. They were one. And it was then that Marisa finally realized what was happening and what it meant.

“I’ll stay,” she said aloud, returning to her seat and to her glass, bringing it against her lips. He nodded to her, relief flooding his gaze as she took a sip and let it swish through her mouth before traveling down her throat.

_ This time I’ll stay,  _ Marisa thought again, finding herself smiling as she sat there and waited for Mary to serve her dinner. A special dinner she made especially for  _ her,  _ on her  _ half-birthday.  _ Which was a thing, and a thing she could allow herself to share with Dr. Mary Malone. 

**Author's Note:**

> aka a fic in which Marisa stays ♥︎ (also, 20th fic in our Adventures of Mary and Marisa series!)


End file.
